My Dam Story from My Dam Trip

In consequence to the very wet spring and summer, many of the reservoirs around the state are rather full. One of these reservoirs; the Upper Stillwater reservoir, has a rather spectacular spillway which is only employed when the water tops the dam. However, the spillway is seldom in use since there has not been enough water to completely fill the reservoir in years past. The dam spans 2650 feet across Rock Creek, with the elevation of the crest of the dam at just over 8200 feet above sea level. The dam is constructed of roller compacted dry concrete and the spillway is 600 feet wide and two hundred feet high. The water from the spillway cascades down the nearly vertical, stepped face of the dam into a stilling basin at the foot of the dam. The stilling basin is only about five feet deep as most of the water's energy is dissipated on the steps in the dam. The dam is owned by the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, but is operated by the Central Utah Water Conservancy District for whom I work.

Due to the infrequent, yet impressive nature of the spilling water, the District organized a tour for the board of directors to travel to the dam and witness the event. A tour bus was rented, but on the day before the tour only one board member and his spouse had signed up to attend. Since the bus was already rented and paid for, a select group of lucky employees who had nothing better to do that day, including me, were able to go. They even served us lunch.

After eating far more BBQ pork than any human should consume and topping it off with two brownies, I felt compelled to hike the trail to the dam, lest I vomit and desecrate a most scrumptious meal. After viewing the dam in all its spilling splendor, we had to return to the bus and make the pilgrimage back to Utah Valley, so some office girl wouldn't miss her Kelly Clarkson concert. (This is the same girl who was concerned that someone might see her boobies if her heart failed and the defibrilator had to be used on her. She made this information known in our Automatic Electronic Defibrilator training course.)

We had been driving for an hour or so and I had developed an incorrigible headache which was threatening to explode my right eyeball. I found this was odd, since normally the left one wants to escape its socket. This may have been caused by the inordinate amount of pulled pork I had ingested, but medical testing proved inconclusive. I was dozing, listening to Pink Floyd on my iPod, when I noticed the bus had stopped. We were in Tabiona. You may ask: Where is Tabiona? Tabiona is an agnostic town, because I don't know and I don't care. Nervous whispers flitted up and down the isle of the bus as the womenfolk grew uneasy. After wrenching myself back to coherent consciousness, I discovered my headache had not subsided and our bus had indeed broken down.

Since I used to be an automotive technician, I was volunteered to inspect the engine. I must reinforce the fact that me being an automotive technician is in the past tense. I'm retired now and I will not fix your car. I exited the bus and sauntered to the rear where I found the driver, looking rather excited and unhappy. He explained that the bus was overheating and pointed to a rubber hose pissing green coolant all over the engine compartment. At this point the driver dons his gloves and removes the radiator cap sending a geyser of boiling ethylene glycol into the world. I was really impressed by that. By this time several other guys from the treatment plant have joined me. We deduce that the cooling fan is inoperable since the belt tensioner is no longer tensioning the belt that drives it. The belt tensioners are all air actuated, so we begin to search for a broken air line. At long last, we find a push-lock fitting has detached itself from one of the tensioner assemblies and won't stay reattached as it is worn out. About this time the wind kicks up and it begins to rain.

We scounge up some duct tape and engineer the fitting back together, but then realize the radiator is half empty thanks to our illustrious driver popping its cork. A couple of guys found some coolant at the only store in Tabiona which I dump into the radiator. At this point it is raining sideways and I am completely drenched in both rain water and coolant (which is dripping into my hair from the engine cover.) We still need some water to top off the radiator, so we start shuttling water back and forth from the store to the bus. Now it begins to hail. Finally, we get the radiator full and start the bus to verify the cooling fan is working and that our duct tape masterpiece will hold the bus together. As soon as we climb back aboard the bus, the precipiation comes to an end.

Our duct tape performs flawlessy all the way back to the district office, but the dam driver doesn't even say thanks. I hope they didn't get charged full price for the bus rental. What's-her-Gina makes it to her Kelly Clarkson concert, albeit a bit late and the world is once again safe from the evils of broken down dam busses.